


If it ain't broke, don't fix it

by Elany



Series: It's 3AM And This Is Not What We Agreed To [1]
Category: Football RPF
Genre: Angst, Drama, Established Relationship, Kinda, M/M, Talking, cliffhanger ending, expect more oneshots, lots of talking, set in the present-ish, why talk things through when you can have your life ruined by misunderstandings, worst pillow talk ever
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-16
Updated: 2015-02-16
Packaged: 2018-03-13 08:21:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,095
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3374450
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elany/pseuds/Elany
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There is a problem with "perfect relationships". And it has everything to do with perfection being entirely subjective.</p>
<p>Or:<br/>The One In Which Mario Completely Misses That Their Relationship Is Not At All What They Agreed It To Be</p>
            </blockquote>





	If it ain't broke, don't fix it

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lilnerdydude](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilnerdydude/gifts).



> Hello everybody!  
> This is the first fic in what I plan on turning into a series of oneshots, following götzeus as they stumble and fall and scratch their knees trying to make their relationship work.  
> The series won't follow the events in chronological order, and this one is a perfect example of that already. Hope it won't be too confusing!  
> Enjoy =)

The silence, on itself, was nothing unusual. It never had been, not really. Sex always left them exhausted and content, and neither of them ever felt the need to break the pleasantly relaxed atmosphere with unnecessary words.

There were times, however long ago those might be, when they couldn't stop talking, not even for a second, and would keep up their conversations for hours to no end.  Those came rarely these days, but their post sex routine had been the same even back then and has remained so all through the years.

No, lying in bed quietly, hair still messed up and sweat pooling on their temples as they try to catch their breaths, was nothing out of the ordinary. And yet there was something about this particular silence that didn't feel quite right.

The till then dormant anxiety, now bubbling freely in the pit of Mario's stomach, was the first indicator that something was definitively awry. Mario ignored it.  
Why wouldn't he, when he had worked for months to get rid of the always present feeling of impending doom. The nagging nervousness was as familiar as it was unwanted, and he had no reason to believe that this time it was really founded in anything more than his own paranoia.  
Yet as the crippling feeling started spreading slowly through the rest of his body, making his hands shiver, his lungs expand and contract far too rapidly, he had to admit to himself that this might be more than just an empty gut feeling.

Words unformed, that he never actually meant to say in the first place, choking in his throat, he turned to the man lying next to him.

Marco wasn't a cuddler, neither of them were most of the time, yet in that moment the distance between them seemed more than just physical and it hit Mario with such force he could swear he actually felt somebody punching him in the chest, making him gasp for air loudly. In an unexpected moment of self awareness Mario realized that up to this point, the whole world seemed as if it was playing in slow motion, and had in that very second decided to stop completely. There was no way Marco hadn't heard the gasp, yet for few more moments nothing happened.

Mario continued to stare at Marco as he stared at the wall, the silence making him go mad and deaf and taking his breath away and if something doesn't happen soon Mario is going to-

With a sight Marco sat up in bed, still looking away from his partner. The dim lighting in the room made it hard to read the other's expression and Mario couldn't help thinking that right then, he'd give everything just to be able to see his lover's face. Not knowing what went on in Marco's head, not even having a single indicator of his thoughts, did Mario no favours, uncertainty driving him to remain perfectly unmoving as the other began to talk in a voice that was almost insultingly calm given Mario's present state of mind.

"I can't do this anymore."

If Mario hadn't been listening to the words being said as intently as he had been, he might have thought it was no more than a throwaway line. The apathy with which it had been said could easily match somebody telling you they're going to grab a glass of water or repeating the weather report they had heard the day prior. The numbness of it hurt him more than the words being said.

"W-what do you mean?"

Tiredness. It was the closest thing to an emotion he had gotten from Marco since the beginning of the conversation, and it was none of the emotions he would have liked to accompany such a discussion. Yet it was all he got as the other finally turned to face him with another soft sigh.

"You know full well what I'm talking about, Mario. Don't do this."

So he did.  
He would much rather hear it directly from the other man, instead of playing the guessing game, but in this case, he had to admit there wasn't much guessing to be done either way.  
At long last he sat up himself, body facing the other, while his eyes searched for any possible excuse to look anywhere but at the man in front of him. It took all of his willpower to even nod silently, conceding to what had been said.

Seconds passed, each of them seeming like a day of its own. Only when the awkwardness became unbearable Mario realized that he was probably expected to say something. He might as well remain silent for all difference him saying anything would do. What was he to say to that? If Marco wanted to end it, what could he really do to prevent it?

"But why? We have something good going on here!"

He surprised himself with how much confidence he said those words, fully believing them in that moment. It was hard to think of a reason why Marco would want to end their, their... arrangement, now of all times. They were over the initial stages of awkwardness for more a year now, they have left the heartbreak in the past, and things were honestly looking up lately. More and more often he felt like the things were almost back to how they used to be. Before their priorities came between them. Before the official, if secret, breakup. Before he left.

A scoff, accompanied by a painfully empty chuckle, woke him up from his reverie.

"Something good? We had something good going on _before._ "

Here it was, the one word he came to hate more than any other. _Before._ He used it a whole lot himself, he just did it right now, but to him it represented as much a goal to strive for as it was a reminder of things better left in the past. Leaving Marco's lips it just tasted of betrayal and hurt.

And honestly, he had enough of it. They had been through this before, more times than he cared to think about. It never, not once, ended up in anything good or even remotely productive.  He could feel he was about to blow over, and for once he did nothing to stop himself.

"What do you want me to say? That I'm sorry? I've said that before! I've said it over and over again and I meant it every single time, even though I did nothing but look out for my career."

The shock at his outburst was clearly visible on Marco's usually so collected face, as their eyes met full on in what felt like the first time in forever. It took a few moments before he was able to match Mario's determined expression and respond without missing a beat.

"Say that you'll come back."

Mario had to stop himself from rolling his eyes. They had never talked about this. Ever. They were professionals and no matter how hurt either of them was at any given moment in time, they knew better than to demand of the other to put their relationship before his career. If their career choices were actually the best for them was debatable, but they knew they had to make them by themselves, and leave the other one to do the same.

"Come on Marco, we both know I can't just come back, even if I wanted to. You're not so immature as to actually demand something like that."

Seeing Marco deflate a little, he quickly continued. They clearly had to talk and if he had any say in this, they at least won't be having the "before" conversation.

"Look, if you want to end the agreement we have, I think I deserve at least an explanation. But I honestly did think we were doing fine lately. We were even able to meet up more often and with international break just around the corner, I was already looking forward to..." So much for this not being one of those talks. "...to some nostalgia time."

When Marco looked at him this time, there was none of the headstrong confidence from just minutes ago left in him. He looked defeated and somewhat resigned. It was never a good look on him, but Mario has learnt through the years that it usually meant a big confession was coming his way, and getting to the bottom of this problem was what they needed most at the moment.

"You're right. It has been good past few months. Almost unbelievably good, to tell the truth." He paused with a small smile playing on his face, apparently momentarily lost in one of the pleasant memories. Confused, Mario was already about to question the motivation behind his earlier actions, when he was stopped by a soft shake of Marco's head.  
"I wasn't kidding before, I really can't do this anymore. I mean, look at us Mario. What are we? We talk about 'agreements' and 'arrangements' like we're too afraid to even say the word fuckbuddy! Or friends with benefits. Or whichever other version you prefer."

Before he could fully stop himself, Mario felt himself cringing at any and all of those words. Marco was right with his implications - he _had_ been intentionally avoiding any definite terms for their current relationship, staying as vague as he possibly could, and the other had been doing the same. It was almost ridiculous to think that they've been doing that for the past two years, without him ever really noticing.  
From the corner of his eye he could see that silly lopsided smirk forming on Marco's face as he caught him doing exactly what he expected him to do. It was good that the atmosphere had lightened a bit, but Mario still wondered where this conversation was heading. It's not like naming their relationship one way or another changed much. And as far as he was concerned it certainly wasn't something worth ending it over.

"So what, you want us to pick a name for it? We can do that." He shrugged lightly, not caring one way or another. He knew why one might want to label what they were right now, but it didn't matter much to him personally.

"No, Mario. I think we need to admit we're not actually friends with benefits at all. " Marco was giving him one of those incredibly patient looks of his, where he seemed to be saying he has full faith in Mario and his ability to eventually realize what he was getting at on his own.  The look that also said he knew full well that Mario was prone to denial and that this once, he'll have to step out of his comfort zone to reach the right conclusion.  
And maybe he wasn't being clear enough, or maybe Mario had been in particularly denial heavy mood, because as far as he knew, two friends having sex was the literal definition of 'friends with benefits'. They were friends, and they occasionally slept together. It seemed like Marco was trying to change one of those two things, but right now? Mario just didn't see what the other had meant with his hint.  
And judging by the sigh he got in return, it must have shown on his face.

"Remember why we've agreed to this in the first place? The whole 'no strings attached', 'no feelings involved' thing? How's that working out for you?" If Marco was trying to be the voice of reason in this conversation, the grimace accompanying these words spoilt the effect completely.

However, Mario couldn't care less about who kept their cool about the situation, because in that moment his whole world came crushing down.

He screwed up.

He really, really screwed up and this time, he didn't even realize he's been doing it.

Was he really so delusional as to not see that things slowly reverting back to "normal" basically meant them being back to the lovesick couple they were years ago?  
To when they were so ridiculously in love they even started this madness at all, risking their careers, their whole future. To what they agreed never to return, because it wouldn't work out, because there were people and clubs and so, so many kilometres between them that they'd only hurt each other again, if they didn't keep emotional distance matching the physical one.

What was worse, it might have only been him this time.

And suddenly he knew perfectly well why Marco, why _both_ of them needed this relationship to end.


End file.
